Setting The Record Straight 4
by Pandoras-Closet
Summary: A profile of the Manson Family


Straight Arrow

Charles Matinock

While in the nation's news recently, Amity Park has its own charms and one of them is the Masons, undoubtedly the First Family of Amity Park.

Descended from Alfred Manson, who built a fortune out of a machine that twirls cellophane over deli toothpicks, the Mansons are bright and cheerful.

"Color is the absolute focus of our lives," says Sylvia Manson. We sit in the lounge of their home along with her husband Charles. "Humans are the only species on the planet who see in color so why shouldn't we surround ourselves with it?"

Charles agrees. "Color is where its at. In fact, Manson Toothpick Company has just released a a gorgeous new line of cellophane twirled colored toothpicks. Sylvia picked out the shades." He beams at his wife.

I examine the samples Charles lays out for me.

"Laughing Lettuce Green, Rose Cherry Red, Proud Plum Purple, Sunshine Happy Yellow, and Bouncing Bubbly Blue," Sylvia says, naming the shades.

"They've met with wonderful success here in the states," Charles says. "Europe is next week, and Asia next month."

"We're looking at the Third World as well," Sylvia says. "Even if they don't have delis, I think we should sell them there. Who doesn't want color?"

Margaret Manson, the family Matriarch, is enjoying her Golden Years to the hilt. "Call me 'M'," she says to me as we walk in the gardens. M uses an electric scooter to get around, but her eyes behind the glasses are bright, recalling to mind the days when she was Amity's Bad Girl.

"I suppose I should have settled down earlier," she says to me. "But why bother? Still, when I met Arthur . . . well, you can't fight love."

We speak of the days when her nickname was "Heartbreaker", a nickname she relishes to this day. "Of course I sowed my wild oats," she says. "That's the whole point of youth. You got to have fun or you'll wind up going insane." She cackles. "I've been telling Sylvia and Charles that for years."

I ask about her opinion of the ghosts that have been the subject of much debate.

"Serves us all right," she says, thumping the armrest of her scooter. "All the wailing and carrying on. They're trying to get some rest and we keep bugging them. No wonder they're terrorizing us."

Returning to the house, I meet the fourth member of the Manson Family; Samantha, Charles and Sylvia's daughter. Along with her two friends, Danny and Tucker, they're headed to the mansion's built in theater to watch a Godzilla movie marathon.

Sam, as she prefers to be called, is part of an obscure California based lifestyle called Ultra-Recyclo Vegetarianism (UCV), and she practices what she preaches. Several months ago, she made headlines when she convinced ("More like browbeat," Tucker says) the school board into adding an UCV menu to the school lunch.

"Everything is tied to everything else," Sam tells me as we sit in the den. Taller than either of her friends, she wears all black, chin length hair done up in a ponytail and purple contact lenses. "The whole point of UCV is to respect that. By conservation, elimination of meat and dairy from the diet, and minimal use of synthetic materials, we can cut pollution, increase life expectancy, and raise empathy and synergy worldwide."

Sam's other passion is the Paranormal. "ESP, Ghosts, Mysticism, conspiracy theories, its all around us," she says. "For example, did you know that the Vietnam War was because Howard Hughes and Aristotle Onasis had a bet?" She shows me a newsletter entitled "Conspiracy Theory", written by a cab driver in DC named Fletcher until his death in '97. "Hughes lost."

I ask her why the world at large doesn't know this.

"They know it," she says fiercely, "but they have Ostrich Syndrome. Nobody has faith that there's stuff in the world that defies logic. So they stick their heads in the sand, soak up what the TV tells them, and live out their lives. Nobody asks questions. All sorts of truth would come into the light if people would just ask the right questions and stop caring what everyone else thinks. No one ever does."

Her friends are as different as Sam is. I start with Danny.

Danny is the youngest member of the Fenton family, Amity's resident ghost hunters. Short and skinny, black hair cut short, and wearing a T-shirt and jeans, Danny seems a little nervous, which he attributes to his family's recent appearance on CNN. He's not sure how to handle all the attention.

"I don't really have any hobbies," he says. "Well maybe movies." He rubs his cheek. "I've thought about being a director, you know? Peter Jackson, Uwe Boll, though I watch his stuff for laughs, and Tim Burton, those are my faves." He pulls his knees up to his chest. "But I'd really like to be an astronaut, I think."

"But not a ghost hunter?" I ask. He shakes his head violently and I ask him about his school life. He admits that he sort of enjoys it. "I could do without the tests though. And the homework."

Danny retreats across the room to play a video game with Sam and Tucker slides in.

If Danny is shy, Tucker Foley is anything but. Dressed in Khakis, a brown long sleeved shirt, backwards turtle cap, and thin rimmed glasses, he asks me more questions than I ask him.

"I love gadgets," he tells me, and shows me his pride and joy; A Sony all in one palm pilot with an impressive list of features, including Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, MP3 player and cell phone. "I can do anything with this," he says, a glint in his eye, "and I mean anything."

I turn the subject to school, and Tucker has his finger on the pulse of the youth of Amity. "There's all the ghosts," he says. "A lot of kids think of them as roaches, or bugs, something that needs to be stepped on. The sports teams, concerts, and," here he raises his voice slightly, "whether or not Danny and Sam are a couple."

"We're not a couple!" they shout in unison and then exchange looks, a guilty smile, and a blush.

"They are," Tucker says to me, and is promptly hit with a thrown pillow, courtesy of Sam, who takes my compliment on her sharp ears and excellent aim with a shrug.

"Lots of practice," she says.

I ask Tucker what its like being friends with Danny and Sam, given their respective families and the notoriety they have.

"Danny and I have been friends since preschool," Tucker says. "Never really thought about it. My folks think it's weird, what with his folks being ghost hunters and all, but eh." He shrugs. "Danny's my friend. Thick and thin." I ask about Sam. "She keeps it to herself," Tucker says. "She wants real friends, you know? A lot of people are really shallow and she wants people who like her for her and not all this." He waves a hand at the room. "That's what she says, anyway. Danny and I didn't even know about this until like, a few months ago."

At that moment, several devices on Tucker's person beep. "Guys! The Marathon is on!" he says and they say their goodbyes before hurrying out of the room.

M walks me out to my car.


End file.
